Page 90 of The Sundered Blade

“I have never been more glad to be wrong,” he said soberly. “And I am happy to know that you found your way home.”

The former bodyguard to Queen Evaraine of Farhall bowed once more, this time deeply, and with unmistakable respect.

“If you would follow me, Your Majesty, the court awaits you.”

Vaniell sighed and nodded. “Of course. After you.”

The palace had never felt small before, but the walk from his royal apartments to the audience chamber seemed to be over in the mere blink of an eye. And yet, he had to face this moment eventually. Had to make his case and learn his fate, so he entered the chamber on Zander’s heels, doing his best to look like a man who knew what he was doing.

He bluffed his way through the simple coronation, felt the weight of the crown settle on his head, and seated himself in the ridiculous golden chair, trying not to look at the floor for any remaining evidence of what had happened here only a few weeks ago. After today, he planned never to use this room again, so it hardly mattered.

And then he looked out over the assembled crowd and wondered what the devil he was supposed to say next.

The most important of Garimore’s nobility had gathered—perhaps more out of curiosity than deference—alongside his most trusted friends and valued allies. Lord Kellan and his father, the Duke of Pergisham, were both present, as were the Earl of Basingreen and Viscount Wynthrop.

An ambassador from Katal had already been en route to meet with Melger when Hanselm was attacked, and he had agreed to remain long enough to witness the coronation. The stern, bearded representative of the desert kingdom had been cool at first, but his suspicions had soon been allayed. He now stood with Princess Caro of Eddris, First Councilor Faraden of Iria, and Queen Evaraine of Farhall, who had all chosen to lend their unflinching support to the legitimacy of Vaniell’s reign.

Just behind Queen Evaraine, Vaniell spotted Aunt Pip standing next to Zander—a pairing that had both surprised and delighted him. As much as he wished his aunt could have returned to Garimore, both she and Zander richly deserved the happiness that they had clearly found with one another.

Across the room were Kyrion, Wyvern King of Dunmaren, and Lord Dechlan, standing beside the tall, elegant figure of none other than King Miach of Sion Dairach. It had been a bit of a shock to receive a visit from the king of the elves, but thankfully, he seemed genuinely interested in peace and cooperation.

At least, he seemed willing to cooperate with everyone but Kyrion. Those two had been glaring at each other for days now, a situation that was a profound mystery to every human present.

But it was the four women in the center of the room, not far from the foot of the dais, who drew Vaniell’s gaze like a magnet—Leisa, Senaya, Yvane, and Karreya.

Karreya’s golden eyes rested on his face unflinchingly, and the sight of her forced Vaniell to hold himself back with the iron will he’d forged as a self-taught enchanter. He wanted nothing more than to run into the crowd, wrap his arms around her, and beg her to stay, but it had to be her choice.

“Thank you all for coming,” he said, letting a small smile play along his lips as he held Karreya’s gaze. “I would like to start by acknowledging that this is a day many of us never thought would come, myself most of all.”

A slightly nervous laugh rippled through the crowd.

“But today ought not be about me, or this crown, or even solely about Garimore. Today is about the fact that this room holds the beginnings of unprecedented friendship—one that I hope all of us will learn to value deeply in the months and years to come.”

There were some nods, and a few shrugs, but Vaniell did not heed them. If it took his entire life to do so, he would ensure that the alliances being built would continue to grow until they could not be torn apart.

“Today is also about setting a foundation for the future, and assuring everyone that the Garimore we now rebuild will be very different from the Garimore of the past.”

It was silent now, as every ear awaited his words.

“First and most importantly, there will be no mercy or leniency for those who demonstrate violence or intolerance towards mages during my reign.” He looked around the room, holding the gaze of each of his nobles in turn. “Garimore will be a place where all people are free to live in peace.

“We will also remain committed to upholding the alliance between Garimore and the other four Thrones. The truth I believe we have all learned is that we stand together or we fall together, and our future may depend on our willingness to see past our differences and strive for peace.”

His gaze then fell on the center of the room. “This alliance between us is now perhaps more important than ever, due to the threat from across the sea. Where Zulle has attempted to conquer, it will not accept defeat, and I believe we would be fooling ourselves if we ignored the danger that the Empire poses. To that end…”

Karreya stepped away from her cousin and her aunt, approached the dais, and addressed him with stiff formality.

“Your Majesty, the Empire is indeed a threat, but you need not concern yourself or your allies with confronting it.”

The sick certainty of what she was about to say brought Vaniell out of his seat with indecorous haste. He bolted down the stairs to grasp her hands and hold them together tightly between his own, ignoring the eyes and the judgment of the crowd.

Their opinions no longer mattered. No one’s did, except for hers.

“Karreya, no. Don’t do this. Don’t say you’re going to leave.”

She looked up at him—compassion softening her expression—but she did not relent.

“I must,” she said. “I decided this before my battle with Urquadi. We once spoke of sacrifice for the sake of the greater good, and I have realized that this path before me is the right one. I have the chance to save many lives, so how can I not be willing to make the attempt?”

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